Rumors
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: Rumors have a nasty habit of getting back to those who spread them. France finds this out the hard way, and unfortunately for him, those rumors pertained to Russia...


The meeting was a boring and tedious event. Most nations hadn't even shown up, it was only a preliminary meeting after all. Ludwig, Arthur, Matthew, Francis, Feliciano (probably under threat by Ludwig), Roderich, Yao, Kiku, and… Ivan. The Russian had nothing much to say today however, not that he spoke up very often at all anyway. Still, his presence was somehow… More menacing than usual. Everyone felt it but no one wanted to address it directly. It wasn't exactly easy to just ask Ivan, 'Hey, is something bothering you?'

You were more likely to get some kind of creepy phrase rather than an answer. No one knew this better than Francis, who for some reason, seemed to have no qualms about speaking to Ivan. Only that today, even Francis was a little uncomfortable. For the Frenchman who made a sport out of staring at people until they became uncomfortable, he now found that very trick played on _him. _He could see it even out of the corner of his eyes, that violet gaze locked on him. Francis even pulled out his compact (yes, he had one on him at all times) to check his face and hair, make sure nothing was out of place. Arthur started ribbing him for that though, and it dissolved into another argument. Ivan was smiling.

As soon as the meeting was over, everyone seemed eager to leave. Of course nothing had actually gotten _done, _what with so many nations absent. A heavy hand on his shoulder stopped Francis in his tracks as he went to leave the meeting room. A tall body—even before he spoke it could only be one person, pressed against his back. Lips brushed his ear, breath tickling the hair there. "_Let's go somewhere._" Ivan murmured, parting from the Frenchman just as swiftly as he'd come. Francis felt a shudder run down along his spine, and his smile came in full charm.

"Why Ivan, I thought you'd never ask." Francis gave a small tilt of his head, heading off down the hall. The hotel used for the meetings was quite convenient, and it saved the nations a bit of privacy. Especially nations like Francis, who preferred less than savory company in his room at almost all times. No sooner than they had stepped into the elevator than Ivan pounced. Francis gave a gasp as he was pressed face first up against the mirrored right side of the elevator. Breath fogged the glass as Ivan's heavy body pressed into his from behind, and he gave a low groan as the Russian's hand slid around over his hip. "_Aahh…_" Francis tilted his head back as those long fingers cupped the front of his pants completely, the heel of Ivan's palm rubbing firmly. "_Dieu, Ivan…_" He moved his hips shamelessly into that hand, and Ivan chuckled. Teeth caught the side of Francis' bared neck, biting hard enough to get a wince and a sharp gasp of pain.

And all at once that attention was gone. Francis barely had time to stand upright before the elevator dinged, having just enough time to brush his hair back into obedience before the door slid open. Ivan on the other hand seemed perfectly composed, aside from smiling a little wider than usual. Thankfully there was no one on the floor they stepped out onto, and Francis hurried to his room. Sliding the card into the slot, he reached for the handle. Ivan's hand got there first, opening the door and placing his free hand onto Francis' back to give him a push in front of him. "H-hey, slow down a little _amant._" Francis smiled again, turning around as the door clicked closed. This time he met Ivan half-way, lips crashing together with a force that was almost painful. As good as Ivan was, his kiss was no match for Francis' talented tongue, and this time it was the Russian who gave a groan.

Ivan's hands slid up between their tightly pressed bodies, backing Francis up into a wall. Lips parted for breath as Ivan's knee slid up in-between Francis' thighs. The shorter nation gave a low gasp, feeling their hips press firmly together. "_Oh cheri,_" Francis purred, "What's this all about?" Azure eyes half-closed, Ivan's nimble fingers already working on the buttons of Francis' suit jacket. Only once it slid off did Ivan answer, leaning in to kiss the side of Francis' neck.

"I've been hearing things." Ivan explained, giving a small bite, going for Francis' tie. Francis laughed.

"That's not healthy." He teased. Ivan gave a small '_hm_' before he pulled back, and something in that smile gave Francis his first jolt of uneasiness.

"_Nyet, _not for you." Ivan slid the tie free of Francis' neck. Francis rose one eyebrow, frowning.

"_Me_? A-ah, Ivan?" His voice rose a pitch as he was grabbed by the shoulder, spun around to face the wall. The Russian had his hands behind his back in an instant, the Frenchman's own tie wrapped around his wrists. "Ivan, that's—."

"Expensive? _Oh, _I know." Ivan quipped, grabbing the back of Francis' shirt. Francis nearly stumbled as he was pulled backwards, directed to face the bed. One heavy shove and he was face-fold over the waist high edge of the bed.

"H-_hey, I don't know if this is—_!" His heart was pounding now, grunting as Ivan's body pressed down over his own. "I-I'm not really into…"

"_You're into what I say you're into, dorogoy._" Ivan nearly hissed, teeth sinking Francis' shoulder this time. The cry that Francis gave was far from pain, despite his protests. He pressed back into the Russian, writhing under him as he felt Ivan's hands sliding under his waist to undo his belt and pants.

"_Aaah, i-it's as you say._" Francis admitted, eyes closing when he felt that clamp on his shoulder release. _Oh, _that was going to bruise. Ivan's hands jerked Francis' belt from its buckle, outright snapping the button on his pants. "_Hey—_!"

"_Quiet._" The voice which had been light and teasing suddenly became low. Francis shuddered at the cold chill it sent down along his spine. "Don't you want to know about the voices?" His tone lightened again, innocently questioning as he sat back, jerking Francis' pants down off of his hips.

"S-sure, just let me—_ow, merde_!" Francis cursed when Ivan's knee pressed into the small of his back, sending sharp pains up through his spine. Ivan was reaching under his own coat, belt buckle jingling as he undid it.

"The voices are saying things about me." The belt made a _zith _as it slid out of the Russian's belt loops. Francis swallowed, fear finally dawning on him.

"I-i-is that so?" He asked lightly, trying hard to laugh it off. He understood it now, but he wasn't about to just go ahead and admit it. Considering his current situation, in a shirt bent over a bed with his hands tied and his pants about his ankles, better to play it safe. If you _could _be safe in a room with Ivan.

"_Mm_!" Ivan nodded, long fingers sliding up the back of Francis neck to tangle into his hair. "Some of it is good… They say, 'Ivan has a great cock'."

"Th-that's good, isn't it?" Francis gave a nervous laugh. Ivan laughed too. And then he gripped that silky blond hair tightly. "_Ngh_!" The Frenchman's back arched, but it only caused his back to ache all the more.

"It _was _good, until I heard the rest of it." Ivan explained, and his folded belt tapped Francis' bare ass. "It said, 'Ivan also has a nice ass'"

"B-but that's _good, _isn't—_haa_!" Francis was interrupted by a jerk on his hair. "C-_careful_!" Vanity was important to Francis, and he didn't want any of his hair to be pulled out…

"I wasn't _finished._" Ivan said sweetly. He cleared his throat, "It was fine until they said, 'His ass was tight and _hot._ You can tell he doesn't take it often, so _fucking _him was a real treat.'" Ivan was finished, and Francis was panting in panic. How had Ivan found out, who had _told_? He didn't think anyone he spoke to would have actually _talked _to Ivan! The belt tapped again, just before; _Snap_!

"_Ahh_! D-damn it Ivan, that hurt! I'm not one of your lackeys that you can just—!" _Snap_! The belt struck one full cheek again, raising a pink strip of flesh at once. "_Hnn_!"

"You think that I would treat my dear subordinates like this? You're mistaken, _moy droog._ _They_ mean something to me_._" _Snap, crack_! Francis' body jolted with each strike of that leather belt, panting by the time the sixth was laid.

"A-alright, _alright_!" Ivan paused his strikes, lifting an eyebrow. Francis swallowed, giving a high and panicked laugh. "I-it was a joke! A-a joke, Ivan! I never meant for it to… reach you!" His laugh was promptly cut off by another sharp _smack_!

"You mean you _lied _about my _virtue _for a _joke_?" Ivan's voice was thoughtful, almost hurt.

"_N-non_, not like that at all! I-I mean I didn't think anyone would believe it!"

"_Alfred _did." Ivan's lip curled in distaste. _Alfred_? That was who told? _That idiot_, Francis thought. He was going to have to have a talk with that boy about keeping a secret… "So you see, I'm going to have to set things straight."

"Th-that's fine! I'll tell everyone it was just a lie!" Ivan tensed above him, and Francis felt his heart skip a beat. Ivan was quiet for a moment, and Francis' heart was pounding in his ears.

"E…_Everyone_?" Ivan nearly whispered. _Oh shit. _Had he really said everyone? Just as he opened his mouth to double back on his words, the belt was given one last _SMACK _with every bit of strength that Ivan held. Francis cried out loudly, his body giving a strong jolt despite the pain that shot through his back from that knee keeping him pinned. The burning throb from the belt was much worse! He heard that belt fall to the floor, and then Ivan was reaching in to his coat pocket. "I was saving this for someone else, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't use very much." Ivan calmly explained, releasing Francis' hair.

"Wh-what…?" The Frenchman glanced back, but his hair was too astray to see over his shoulder very well. Ivan leaned down a little, knee still pinning the smaller nation firmly. "_Ha—ahh_!" Francis' eyes closed as he felt one slick finger slide into his body. He gave a small wiggle of his hips at the intrusion, which was unfortunately far from unwelcome. His body was quite trained for pleasure after all… However when the next finger came shortly after, he did give a whine of complaint. "I-Ivan, that's too—"

"Fast?" The Russian quipped, spreading his fingers apart. "Yes well, I don't have very much time." He explained simply, sliding the third finger inside. Francis groaned in pain, fingers clenching as he closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. Ivan's fingers thrust back and forth, spread apart, and Francis was panting in pleasure in no time at all. Nothing as simple as a little pain could keep the nation of love from enjoying himself! Just as he was getting into it, Ivan removed his fingers.

Francis gave a groan of relief as that knee lifted from his back, though he didn't try to move. Ivan's clean hand undid his own button and zipper. Freeing the erection he'd worked up somewhere throughout this process. Francis licked his lips, practically pressing his hips back towards that deliciously impressive member. Ivan gave a giggle, and it wasn't even strange to hear that sound coming from the tall Russian. _Smack_! Ivan's hand smacked that already red ass, causing Francis to hiss. "You misunderstand _moy droog._" The Russian grasped those hips in front of him tightly enough for Francis to wince. "This is for _me._"

"_Aahh, m-merde_!" Francis cried out as the Russian sank into him swiftly, not pausing until his hips met the Frenchman's ass with a vulgar smack of flesh. He felt Ivan shudder above him, giving a shameless groan of pleasure at being enveloped in that _tight, hot _heat. One hand moved from Francis' hip up to his shoulder to hold him as those hips pulled back, thrust in just as mercilessly as the first time. Francis' back arched, gasp spilling from his slack lips. Ivan's pace was hard and fast, and the lack of proper lubrication quickly became apparent. It wasn't _painful, _but it was rather uncomfortable at the pace that he was keeping. It didn't seem to bother Ivan at all, as the Russian's breath was falling heavily over the back of Francis' neck. Finally, he could stand it no longer. "_Ah, haa, I-Ivan…_" He gasped, "_Touch me, touch me please…_!" His desperate plea was only met with a breathless chuckle.

"_Wh-what are, aah, you mis—understanding_?" The Russian jeered. "_Mm, I thought… you weren't one of—Bohze moy… my lackeys_?"

"I-I was… wrong! _Please, please Ivan_! _I need it…_! _I'll die like this…haa_!" Indeed, despite everything the Frenchmen's rebellious body was quite aroused. Every thrust gave his erection a little friction against the bed sheets, but it wasn't nearly enough.

"_Nyet._" Ivan replied coolly. He leaned down closer, each and every thrust jolting Francis' body, hard enough to send a zing of pain with every thrust. "_Ahh, you're not… one of moi, mm, moi suk at home…_" He licked the shell of Francis' ear, hissing directly into it. "_You're moy blyad'_!" Teeth sank into Francis' shoulder through his shirt again, drawing out another pained shout. That was all it took for Ivan to shudder, groaning into Francis' shoulder as his thrusts grew short, and yet somehow harder. And then they stilled, teeth releasing as Ivan panted in the aftermath of his climax. Francis whined, hips shifting uselessly against the bed. Ivan smiled, standing up. He pulled out of the tired Frenchman, using the end of Francis' shirt to wipe off his spent member.

"You can't _leave _me like this!" Francis protested. Ivan fixed his pants, leaning down to grab his belt.

"Can't I?" He asked as he replaced his belt. "Now you can tell the story correctly."

"Ivan!"

"Ah, look at the time. I really have to be going."

"Don't you—!"

"Da svidanya, Francis. It's been fun!" Ivan gave a little wave as Francis stood up; groaning in pain and leaning back down onto the bed. He heard the door open and close, and he gave a shudder.

_Fuck that was great. _Francis shifted his hips, pressing his own neglected erection against the sheets properly. Recalling the events from mere moments ago, he moaned as he thrust his hips against the bed, biting his lower lip as he shuddered and came in no time at all, sullying his sheets with a new stain. But then, this hotel was used to that from whatever room that Francis' stayed in.

"_Mmm…_" He groaned in contentment. He envied Ivan's subordinates somewhat.


End file.
